Try-State Area

A Regular Coffee Date

The automatic doors of the supermarket slid open and the icy cold air conditioning inside the store enveloped Emily. It was a stark contrast to the heat of the early June day. The radical change of temperature took her breath away for a moment and her body tingled while it adjusted. She studied the grocery list that her mother texted earlier and picked up a shopping basket.

While she selected a small bunch of bananas, her phone vibrated against her chest. Emily pulled it from her bra to see if her mother added another item. Instead she was pleased to see another song from the ever growing list from Evan.

My earbuds are buried in my bookbag and I'm too lazy to dig them out...

The store wasn't very crowded. She glanced around the produce section. The closest person was an older man with grey hair, looking at the apples.

No sleeping babies nearby... I can get away with listening to the song with the volume on low...

The steady cymbal beat and bass line started, soon joined by the lead guitar and electric organ of "Black is Black" by Los Bravos. Emily stood in front of the bananas and listened to the lyrics.

The man by the apples bopped his head along with the song and moved closer to her to select his fruit.

When the last note finished he smiled at her. "That's a great song. I was probably about your age in '66 when it came out. I can remember listening to that one and feeling exactly that way about my first girlfriend when she broke up with me. Anyway, it's cool to see a kid your age listening to older music.  Thanks for the blast from the past!"

Emily smiled back at him. "A boy sent it to me to listen to."

"He must miss you," he observed. Then he added, "He's got good taste in music... Have a good day."

Emily picked up a bunch of bananas. "He does. Thanks." She put them in the basket and moved onto the next aisle while she thought about the perfect song to send back to Evan.

When she was by the coffee Emily googled "Songs from 1966" and looked over the chart of top singles. The moment she saw that The Mamas and Papas' "Monday, Monday" was on the list, she knew it was her sweet and sour answer for Evan.

It seems like John Phillips wrote about my feelings... This morning was hard for me... It was difficult to transition between the two parts of my life... Between Dad and Mom... Between Jersey and Brooklyn... Between being reckless and responsible... Between waking up with Evan next to me and needing to go to sleep alone again later tonight... If I go back to Dad's during the school year, every Monday will be like today...

She sent the song and stepped onto the checkout line so she could finish the delivery of these groceries.

Her grandfather opened his door after her first ring.

He must have been waiting at the window...

"I missed you last Monday, kiddo!" he said while she unloaded the shopping bags onto his kitchen counter.

"Sorry Pop, I should have come another day to visit," Emily apologized.

She put his oatmeal away. The wooden chair creaked behind her as he shifted his weight and stood up. His slippers shuffled across the floor to her.

"It's okay. Your mother took care of the shopping for me." He patted her shoulder as he passed behind her.

Emily frowned. "I know but still..."

Pop interrupted her," Nonsense! You have a lot going on with school and that should be your focus."

But it wasn't schoolwork that distracted me last week... It was boy and friend troubles...

She continued to put items away into the cabinets to avoid thinking of it anymore. Pop poured them both a cup of coffee from his perpetually brewing pot and shuffled back to his chair.

"So what do you want for your birthday?" He sat again, his joints cracking and snapping in protest.

Emily wiped down the shelves of his refrigerator and answered from behind the door. "I know you don't like to give money, but I'm kind of saving up for something big Pop."

Her grandfather sipped his black coffee and waited until she shut the refrigerator door. "How big?"

Emily went to the table and sat in the empty seat opposite from him with her mug. "Well... I've saved up a little over two thousand already. But I need another sixteen hundred."

Pop scratched at the scruff of his chin. He raised his eyebrows high above his milky, cataract-plagued eyes. "That's a lot of money Emily. What do you need that kind of cash for?"

She stirred the spoon around in the mug and watched a little whirlpool take shape from her efforts. "I haven't told anyone yet. Not even Mom. But I got accepted into this summer program at Wesleyan College in Connecticut. It's a creative arts camp where I can study writing and theatre for the month of July."

"Your mother isn't going to like this Emily." He sighed.

"I know. But Pop, it'll look so impressive on my college applications. Yale has a summer program for high schoolers too. But that one is nearly twice the cost. The Wesleyan one looks awesome, especially for the price," she explained.

He stared across the table at her. Her grandfather was a retired police detective and so even through his clouded eyes, he had a way of reading people.

Suddenly I feel like a perp sitting down for an interrogation...

He asked, "When do you need the full amount by?"

Emily sipped her coffee. "I need to pay by June 18th."

He grunted. "That doesn't leave you a lot of time to come up with the rest of the money. What's your plan?"

Emily picked at her cuticles and didn't look up at her grandfather. "Well I was going to ask Dad."

She heard another grunt. "Your mother's not going to like that either."

She shrugged. "I know. But I really want this and... well... He'll probably say no anyway."

He took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. "Indeed."

Emily stood up and went to the sink. While she washed out her mug she said, "Do me a favor Pop? Don't tell Mom yet. She might not even ever need to find out. If I can't get all the money, none of it will matter anyway. I'll just save up for the Yale camp next summer."

She placed the mug upside down in the dish-rack to drip dry.

Pop let out a wet racking cough into his handkerchief and wheezed out, "Okay. For now."